Checkmate
by La Phoenix
Summary: Sequel to "The Ball is in Your Court, Ms. Potts". Pepper makes a choice; Tony reacts
1. Chapter 1

Checkmate

Sequel to "The Ball is in Your Court, Ms. Potts". Pepper makes a choice; Tony reacts. Mainly Pepper's POV.

_A/N: __A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed my last story. I'm still over the moon by the positive feedback :) I actually had no idea how I was going to continue, then I read the wikipedia entry on Iron Man where RDJ talks a little bit about the sequel and the fact that maybe Pepper's dating someone else. That sure sparked my interest and gave me this idea. Hope you enjoy this one too._

Pepper Potts had been introduced by a mutual friend to Gregg Rogers and tonight she was planning to officially see him on a date.

Gregg was nice, she mused to herself while making lunch. At the dinner party where they'd met, he had shown himself to be thoughtful, considerate of her needs and he had a great sense of humour. They'd discovered that they shared many of the same interests. Her friend, Marianne, had hinted none too subtly that Gregg was ideal marriage material.

And Marianne was right on the money.

He more than passed in the looks department. He was a solid 6 foot, well toned by years of competitive swimming and stunning green eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. More importantly he was respectful around her, no sarcastic jokes, no impossible tasks, no brooding stares or heartfelt speeches, and especially no suicidal hobbies.

Pepper shook her head to rid herself of **those** particular thoughts. She was going on a date and she was happy, she told herself firmly. She was focused on the future, not on past mistakes. And there was no reason for her thoughts to be constantly straying to her boss. Since that particular speech a couple of weeks ago, he hadn't made another overture at her. Not one. For one, he'd been pretty busy as Iron Man and she was so worried, it was getting to the point where she was considering making Jarvis tell her before Tony left, so she could at least prepare herself. For another thing, she avoided him like the plague if she didn't have to see him. Okay, so it wasn't exactly a foolproof strategy; or a long-term plan.

Of course, the inappropriate jokes continued, but he was Tony Stark, that much could be expected. Pepper varied between being disappointed (bitterly but she would never admit that to anyone else) and relieved that he'd never forced her to make a decision rightaway.

But…there were times when the tension between the two of them would skyrocket. The conversation would be innocuous, then a look, an overheld gaze, or scorching stares from Tony at odd moments would carry them back there, to that moment.

But she was **not** going back there. She had already decided she spent way too much time involved in Tony Stark's affairs. There were personal assistants, then there was Pepper. And she needed a life. She needed space. And in her more honest moments, she admitted that she really needed to get away from those probing stares before she did something stupid again.

The man in question interrupted her thoughts, padding behind her and snatching a piece of the chicken she was cutting up for the chicken salad. He popped it in his mouth. "Hmmn, good," he said. Opening the fridge, he rooted around for a soda, popped the can and sat on the kitchen countertop, taking up another couple of slices from Pepper's cutting board. "What's for supper, Potts?"

"At the rate you're going, nothing will be left," she observed dryly.

"I'm a growing boy," he declared with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Emphasis on boy."

"You wound me, Potts." His tone deepened. "I can guarantee you though I'm all man." It was one of several suggestive comments he'd tended to say to her since she was working for him, and it shouldn't have affected her like it did. Unfortunately, her body clearly remembered that he was all man. The slight tingles in places she did not want to acknowledge were downright nerve-wracking.

"Hey, why don't I go out and grab a bottle of wine and we make a real meal out of it?"

"I can't, I'm sorry. I have plans," she said, glancing down as he grabbed another piece of chicken. She felt rather than saw his sudden spark of interest.

"Really. Plans." He studied the way she was avoiding her eyes. She knew he hated it when she had plans, but this looked different…"It's a date, isn't it? Anyone I know?" he asked casually.

"No and you're not meeting him either." Damn. She'd forgotten how good he was at reading her. She walked over to the fridge to take out the salad dressing.

"Oh come on Potts. I can behave. I won't bring up anything I shouldn't. I'll be good, I promise." He held up three fingers.

"Since when were you a scout?" Pepper asked in mild interest.

"Since when it suits me. So listen, I'd really like to meet Dave…"

"His name's Gregg, actually," she said absently, still rooting around in the fridge – didn't they have Italian dressing? – then could have bitten her tongue. She should know by now how he worked. She did not have to look back to see that he was smiling triumphantly. Right then, Pepper's phone rang. Before she could get to it, Tony picked it up.

"Hey Potts, is your date blonde? Dear God, his name has 3 g's. What kind of man has three g's in his name? Is he compensating for a lack of…"

She cut him off by grabbing the phone and moving out of earshot, eyes telling him to butt out. He followed her, grabbing another couple of chicken slices, and sprawled on the couch, eyes watching her every move.

"Hi, Gregg," Pepper answered smiling. She mouthed furiously to Tony to go away, making shooing gestures with her hand. He on the other hand pretended ignorance, signalling to her that he didn't understand what she was telling him.

"Uh, yes, 8 o'clock on the dot. Haven't forgotten," Pepper said into the phone. "Okay, thanks. No, I'll meet you there. Bye."

"Not a word," she said in a warning tone to Tony, whose innocent face denied any intention of doing so.

A date. She had raised the stakes in their little game. Point to Ms. Potts. He had to admire her tenacity. Of course it only made him more determined to win. He had even played the role of gentleman, though that was hard as hell to do. He sighed. That wasn't the only hard thing knocking around these days. Only serious self-discipline – and the fact that she'd probably quit – stopped him from outright seducing her back into his bed.

Faint heart never won fair maiden, or something like that. He would have to change his strategy a bit, and reassess the situation first hand to see how much of a threat this guy was.

When she came downstairs the next morning, Tony looked up from the desk where he was sitting and observed her carefully with a glint in his eye. "Hmmn, no post-coital glow. Had a good date, Potts?" he asked innocently.

"Not all of us have your impeccable standards."

"Was that supposed to be a dig at me and if so I haven't the slightest idea what you mean," he frowned.

"I'm sure you don't." She pulled out her Blackberry. "Now there are a couple of meetings you have…"

"So where did you go on your date with Dave?" Tony was currently typing in some figures into one of the monitors, pausing every now and then to make some adjustments.

Pepper shot him a look. "It's Gregg…"

"With three g's."

"…and it's none of your business."

He turned to give her his full attention. "Where you're concerned Virginia Potts, everything is my business," he observed gravely. She found herself getting lost in his dark stare, oddly touched. Only Tony Stark could make a blatantly obnoxious statement sound so caring.

She quickly lowered her gaze to the Blackberry and started on her list.

"Hasbro called. They want to make an Iron Man action figure. They want to set up a meeting to discuss rights, release date and get a recording of your voice."

Tony's head shot up from the monitor. Pepper saw the grin and knew what it meant. "A doll after me? Cool. Save that one for later."

"Obadiah Stane's family is threatening a class action suit and the board wants a meeting urgently to thrash out the company's direction…"

"Class action suit? The man almost killed me – and you," Tony muttered in annoyance. "The board will have to wait until I'm finished with this prototype, and you can tell Stane's lawyers to kiss my iron…"

"Tony," Pepper said in warning. "You need to deal with the board." The two stared off for a few seconds, each challenging the other's position.

"You've got 30 seconds. Let me hear it," Tony said.

"The company is in a slight tailspin. The employees don't know what's going on. You're still CEO. At least send an email to staff so they feel connected to the company. Meet with the board. The stock went down another 30 per cent when Obadiah died and it hasn't really recovered, especially after the Colombia incident. Investors are worried," Pepper finished softly.

Tony looked at her, then nodded. "Alright. Write an email to the staff, assuring them their jobs and benefits are safe. I'll meet with them later as to the specific direction of the company. As for the bunch of jackasses on the board, I'll see them in two months."

"One."

"One and a half."

"I'll pencil in the meeting in another 4 weeks then, and I will not be rescheduling. Make yourself available," Pepper said in a no-nonsense tone.

Tony looked slightly aggrieved. "Hey, who's the boss here, Potts?"

"You. of course, Mr. Stark."

"First the tools, now you. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was a mutiny onboard," he muttered. "But for the record," he flashed a half-grin, "I like you bossy. It's kind of a turn on."

When Pepper would have opened her mouth to talk about other matters, he hastily stood. "Ah, ah, ah. I have work to do – real work. I'll see you later."

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"Uh huh.

"But the meetings today…" She was already talking to his back.

"Reschedule them," he shouted over his shoulder, heading over to the Iron Man launch pad. Only now did she realise the robots were on hand ready to suit him up. "I'll be back in maybe 2 hours. Hey Potts, if you're going out with Dave later, don't do anything I would."

Pepper's only response was an eye roll.


	2. Chapter 2

Pepper sighed and looked at her watch for what seemed like the 50th time that night

Pepper sighed and looked at her watch for what seemed like the 50th time that night. It had been more than ten hours since Tony had flown out. It wasn't like she was worried, she told herself. He was a big boy, he could take care of himself. But just before she'd left for her date, an unconfirmed report from Iran had spotted Iron Man among a series of explosions. She'd put her Blackberry on alert for any more stories about Iron Man, refusing to give in to the urge to call Jarvis right away. She wouldn't give Tony the chance to gloat.

Now she was wishing that she had. Gregg was talking about a project at work, happily oblivious to her distraction. She sneaked a glance at her watch again. Maybe she could excuse herself and call Jarvis from the bathroom.

Gregg interrupted her thoughts to ask, "Isn't that your boss?"

She looked over her shoulder to where Gregg was indicating and sure enough it was Tony. Her first feeling was a weak-kneed relief. He was alive. Thank God, she closed her eyes briefly, overwhelmed by the emotion. Then her brain registered what her eyes had seen in the split second before she'd closed them. Was that…? It was, her shocked brain registered, although why she was surprised she didn't know. He was Tony Stark, after all.

On Tony's arm was a beautiful blonde. Draping over him as if she couldn't hold up those massive boobs by herself. Fake of course, Pepper thought cattily. Everything about her screamed easy. She was, of course, well dressed, and shooting looks around everyone to make sure they noticed who she was with. And Tony was his usual. Suit, sunglasses and lapping up the attention everyone was giving him. He turned suddenly in her direction, as if feeling her stare. He took off his glasses and a wicked smirk came over his face.

Pepper's emotions quickly registered alarm and showed up on her face - _d__on't you dare Tony_, she told him with her eyes. She should have known better. She groaned aloud when he smiled and started to walk her way.

Gregg shot her a curious look. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing," she smiled, trying to school her face.

"Pepper, you look lovely," Tony said by way of greeting. He smiled again, well aware of how annoyed she was with him. The day he stopped baiting Pepper Potts was when he could no longer do advanced math calculations in his head. Besides, he'd needed to meet this guy she was happily not sleeping with. He turned his attention to Gregg, eyes taking in his appearance and rapid brain reading the other man's thinly disguised interest. _This was going to be too easy_, he thought smugly. _Oh Pepper, you really should have gone for more of a challenge._

He struck out his hand, still all smiles. "And you must be Gregg. Tony Stark."

His hand was pumped enthusiastically by the man in question, who looked at him in bemusement. "Pepper's talked about me?" he shot a happy look at Pepper, surprising her since she was giving Tony a death glare at the time.

"All the time. She doesn't shut up about you. He's just as you described, Potts."

"Why don't you and your date join us, Mr. Stark?" Gregg offered.

"Oh no, Gregg, we don't want to interrupt…"

"Thanks Gregg. Don't mind if I do. And it's Tony." Tony spoke over Pepper's objections, signalling to the hovering waiter for more chairs and grinning triumphantly at Pepper.

Pepper sighed inaudibly. It was going to be a long night.

Half hour later, Pepper was ready to shake Tony until he rattled. The bastard was systematically and deliberately ruining her night. He regaled Gregg with tales of his adventures, even going as far as to call the other man Gregg-o. "Rhymes with Jello," and both men had laughed hard at the silly joke. She'd asked the waiter for her third vodka martini at that point. In one more memorable moment, he'd talked Gregg into telling them about his first wet dream. Pepper had wanted to die from embarrassment.

"Oh, Tony. That's so funny," his date breathed at a new joke Tony was telling. Her name was Candii. With two i's, Tony had added pointedly. She'd wanted to throw the drink at him, hands tightening on the stem of the wine glass instead.

Tony glanced at Pepper briefly. He pulled her to her feet ignoring her uncertain glances, saying by way of explanation: "Hey Gregg, you don't mind if I whirl our girl on the dance floor?"

"Not at all," Gregg beamed.

Overruling Pepper's protests, Tony pulled her into his arms. "Just like old times, Potts. And you smell even better." He leaned in close to nuzzle her neck ever so slightly.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" Pepper hissed, pulling back sharply.

He had the audacity to pull back and look confused. "What am I doing? I came out for an evening's entertainment…"

"At the same restaurant I happened to be?" The smile Pepper had on her face for appearances' sake was growing more strained by the second.

"It's a small town?" Tony ventured.

"Did you…?" Pepper's voice trailed off in mounting horror and understanding. "Did you get Jarvis to track me down through my phone?"

"No, of course not," Tony countered.

"Oh that's low, even for you Tony," Pepper said in annoyance.

"Ok, so maybe I did ask Jarvis where you were. But Candii really wanted to come. I couldn't say no," he added breezily.

"And really Tony, Candii? Shouldn't you have picked someone who doesn't have the IQ of a child?" she asked acidly, then realised too late how that sounded.

"Why, Ms. Potts," Tony favoured her with a squinting, inquiring look. "Are you jealous?" She could even hear the smile in his voice.

"Absolutely not." And before he could comment, she told him she wanted to go back to the table.

By the end of the night, Pepper had a headache, Tony had made a new friend of Gregg, and he and Candii moved on to what he called other forms of entertainment. She could only imagine what that meant, Pepper thought gloomily.

"Don't wait up for me, Potts" he called out before leaving much as he arrived, in a flurry of attention.

"He's a really nice guy, Pepper," Gregg gushed. "We really should do this another time."

Pepper's face had never hurt so much from smiling as it did at that point.

--

The next morning she braced herself for Jarvis' call at 4 a.m. When that call didn't come, she stayed up, tossing and turning, trying to rid herself of images of Tony and Candii. By the time she got to the house, she truly dreaded what she might find.

Getting out of the Audi, she took a deep breath. Walking over to the keypad, she deliberately and calmly entered her code, eyes firmly set on her office as she walked in the house. Then her steps slowed as she approached her work station.

There on the table was a single white rose. The lovely crystal vase was perfectly positioned to catch the morning sunlight, creating a prism of colours on her table. It looked ethereal. She opened the card to find a note:

_ Pepper. _

_ Thinking about you,_

_ Tony_

She smiled, touched by the gesture and sniffed the white rose's delicate scent.

"It reminded me of you," Tony said from behind her. For the last hour he had taken to bugging Jarvis to let him know when Pepper was in the house. He was wiping his oily hands on a rag which he would have dumped on the kitchen counter but abruptly stopped at Pepper's look. He put it in the trash instead.

She turned back to the rose then looked at him. "Pale and skinny?" she asked wryly.

"Graceful and elegant," Tony countered. Staring at her, he gently caressed one of the rose's delicate blooms, leaving a faint trace of oil on the petal. "And if it's one thing I remember about that night Potts is how amazingly soft your skin is." The sensation of him looking at her while touching the flower was enough to make her eyes skitter away from his obvious interest. She drew in a shaky breath. That was one of the most erotic things she'd ever seen.

She looked at her workstation to regain some semblance of normalcy. "Where's Candii?"

"Candii was a little pissed last night when I left her at the club. She's not really speaking to me right now, but she did leave her card in case I know anyone in the movie industry. Particularly the adult kind."

Pepper could hardly restrain the heady relief at hearing he hadn't slept with the bimbo.

She countered with a quip of her own. "I think she'll make it in Malibu. After all, her name does have two i's."

"Touché Potts." He actually grinned. "By the way, are you going to see Gregg again?"

Pepper shot him a warning glare. "I'm not giving you any more information about my dates."

"Why? I had fun, didn't you?" The twinkle in his eyes gave him away. She refused to answer to him. Gregg had ended up talking about Tony Stark for the rest of the night. She'd never been so happy to end a date in her life.

"So does Gregg," he couldn't help but emphasise the last g and noted that Pepper tried to restrain her smile. "Does Gregg meet your profile?" At her blank look, he clarified, "Marriage, children…"

It was the first time he'd referred to that day in weeks. She was going to have to tread carefully.

"In some ways," she said cautiously.

"He likes me, so he's obviously smart. And he's not bad looking, if you like the washed out blonde look."

"Pot calling kettle black?"

"Candii's a natural blonde. The bottle helps bring it out," he offered. This time she couldn't hide her smile, and tried to turn the subject to less personal matters.

"Anyhow, I've rescheduled Porter International for today at 11. Rhodes wants you to call him back. He's mad that you haven't returned his 10 calls about the weapons cache you destroyed in Colombia."

"Have dinner with me. Tonight." She looked down at her hands.

"Tony…"

"Pepper."

She couldn't answer, not with the blatantly tender look he was shooting at her. Dammit, he was making this hard. What should she say? She was frankly and had always been at war with herself and it was too exhausting. Maybe she needed to get him out of her system, like a child with a craving. Maybe she should make attack her best defence.

"I'll pick you up at eight." He made the decision for her and headed back down to the shop.

"Tony," she started then stopped as he turned back, gaze expectant. "Thanks for the rose." His soft smile warmed her.

"You're welcome, Ms. Potts."

As she answered countless calls and emails that day, Pepper's gaze constantly sought out the white rose. Each time, she would smile, and it had the effect of making her nerves a lot calmer. She couldn't wait for that date tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: First, thank you so much for reviewing. It really does provide a boost especially when I need a kick in the butt to keep writing! Second, sorry about the long wait. I don't have that much spare time so writing, editing, previewing etc. takes much longer than usual. Good news is that I've prewritten most of the dialogue in the chapters to come. Hopefully, I can post the next chapter much sooner. Enjoy!_

/

It was 7:01 and Pepper was ready. Ready for her date with Tony and anything else and tried not to think too much about what "anything" would entail. Because deep down, she knew what anything was; had even prepared for it. She had studiously avoided analysing the reasons she chose the pale blue lingerie set she was wearing, or why she had used the same perfume as the night of the firefighters' benefit. She hadn't let herself read too much into the fact that she put more food in the goldfish bowl (in the event she was back later or not at all) and had even contemplated wearing the blue, backless dress that had affected him so much, but quickly rejected the idea before it could catch root. She'd tried on five different dresses before finally settling on a simple black satin sheath. Every outfit before that was tossed in a huff on the bed on the basis of it being too slutty, too puritan, too predictable, too ugly...

Which meant that by 7:30 p.m., Pepper Potts was a nervous wreck.

She got up from the sofa, wringing her hands slightly and looking at her reflection in the mirror. Oh God, what was she doing? This was Tony Stark, the biggest man whore in Malibu. Was she even seriously contemplating sleeping him…again? The first time had been a mistake. This would be a conscious decision to cross that bridge. And she didn't know why she was thinking about it. Well, she amended wryly to herself, she did know why. The man was good; two orgasms good. Good in a way her body had yet to forget. There were many times since that night that she was so in need of him that it was all she could do to be in the same room as him, pretending to be disinterested. Just the sight of him in the wife-beater and working in the garage, made her want to drop her clipboard, and run her hands and mouth all over him. She wanted – no, needed – Tony Stark very badly.

The question was, would being with him improve or worsen their relationship?. Pepper liked constancy. And while her job did demand last minute changes and an almost ludicrous degree of mental juggling (really, she would fit in well in any circus) that had its own pattern, like a complex sequence of numerical code. But since Afghanistan, things had Changed. In her mind, she always saw that word with a capital C. Even though she'd had to do many strange things for him, their relationship had always been characterised by easy camaraderie above all. She would bully and plead her way through him and he would resist all the way, cracking wise-ass remarks and harmlessly flirting with her. It had been easy to catalogue and shelf and before Afghanistan was one-dimensional at best. When she left Stark Industries or his home for the night, he would rarely cross her mind after that unless it related to an early morning meeting.

From the time he'd returned, their relationship became far more complex. She'd been expecting changes in him following his arrival stateside. What she had not anticipated were the changes in herself.

She started to pace in the narrow corridor. She could do this. She had known this man for many years, they had already done the deed and god…did she want to do it again. Was that so bad? Was it a slur against her if she disregarded her rules just once? Okay, twice. And she was an adult, she could handle it. Besides, she thought not a little mockingly, the line for professionalism had been long crossed. She stopped walking and stared at herself in the mirror, finally admitting to herself what had been uppermost in her thoughts for weeks now: He was what she wanted, and this time she was going after it.

/

He wouldn't say he was nervous per se, but it was the first time he could remember asking anybody's advice on women – before a date. Well, not just anybody.

"So how was she today, Jarvis? Did she seem happy, upset, excited…?" Tony was currently dressing and couldn't tamp down on his own feelings of…what?

"Ms. Potts constantly glanced at the rose on her table and was smiling for most of the day. My experience has shown that usually means happiness."

Tony stopped fiddling with his tie momentarily to glance at the computer screen in the closet. "You're far too good with sarcasm. Tone it down."

"I can't help but observe your own feelings, sir. Your elevated heart rate and sweaty palms indicate a high degree of nervousness. I'm not sure why since you see Ms. Potts every day and you've been with many women before."

"I'm not nervous," he told Jarvis in an indignant voice. "Besides, Pepper isn't just any woman." He frowned heavily. "She's far more decent than any of those bimbos I've been with before."

"I'm aware Ms. Potts is special. I'd hoped you'd recognise that as well." The AI's voice was gentle, far more gentle than Tony had ever heard.

He paused in his actions again and regarded his reflection in the mirror. "I'm aware of the fact, Jarvis. Well aware," he said softly.

/

Her doorbell rang at 8:15 on the dot. She was pleasantly surprised to find that he was early – for him. The open door revealed the body of Tony Stark with a beautiful bouquet of roses hiding his face.

"Hey," he peeked out from behind the flowers.

"Hey," she returned softly, her eyes drinking in the sight of him. Tony in a tux was far too handsome to resist.

"These are for you," he handed her the bouquet. "And this is for me." He leaned in to gently brush his lips with hers. _Yes, oh yes_, her mind whispered in ecstasy before being completely obliterated by rational thought by the soul-stirring kiss Tony gave her. When it ended, he rested his forehead on hers, his hand loosely entwined in her hair for a few seconds.

"I don't know about you, but doesn't dinner sound overrated?" His voice was audibly husky. "Five-star restaurants are so stiff and they give you the portions you don't want. You know, just like kids meals, with tiny sizes. Except these guys give you some fancy sounding bunch of carbs rolled around in some syrup, then charge you 500 bucks a plate." He stopped talking to gently nuzzle her neck. "Let's stay in and order pizza."

She closed her eyes briefly to regain control of her senses. Truth be told, his suggestion sounded a lot better. About 10,000 times better. "We have reservations." She hadn't said as much as whispered it, and then tilted her neck to allow him better access.

"We can cancel them." He leaned back to stare intently into her eyes. "And I'd much prefer a night of pizza and Pepper Potts." He stopped, suddenly entranced, his mind working overtime. "Pepperony."

That one definitely threw her for a loop. "Pardon me?" Was that a new garnish he wanted to try?

"Our names, yours and mine. You know, like a celebrity couple. Pepperony." He smiled, quite taken by the idea. "If Brad and Angelina can do it, why can't we?"

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but couldn't stop the smile from coming through. "Please don't pass that on to the press. I would rather not be referred anywhere in the media as Pepperony. And we really need to get going." The bouquet of flowers was taking up too much space in her right hand, a hand she could be using to, say, facilitate her fascinating exploration of Tony Stark. Besides, they needed the whole wine-and-dine experience before tumbling into bed. Some things, like a courtship, shouldn't be rushed into.

He studied her for a second, then made a quick decision. "Whatever you say, Potts." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed over to ostensibly admire her goldfish. _Take it easy, champ_, he reminded his libido. _We've got all night, she's not going anywhere other than with you_.

_Damn it_, she thought in part annoyance, part tenderness. _He wasn't supposed to get to her so easily_. The fact that he'd readily agreed to go at her pace rather than his had an unexpected lump forming in her throat. The man could be devastatingly sweet without even knowing it. She turned away quickly to brush away the sudden emotion and to put the flowers in a vase.

She smiled as she returned from the kitchen, grabbing her bag and wrap on the way out.

"Ready?" he called out to her, eyes dark with anticipation and appreciation, roaming her body in a way that made obvious his approval.

"Wait." She reached up to brush away the smear of lipstick from his lips. Her fingers lingered longer than required on the smooth feel of his mouth and she could feel the sudden tension in his body. _What would it be like to slip her fingers inside his.._._Down girl, there'll be time for that later, _she thought reluctantly and removed her hand. Tony's burning glance promised retribution at some point during the night, and her wordless reply was an arched brow and smug smile. "Ready for anything." And that, Pepper mused to herself, was that.

/

Predictably it was the issue of dancing that made her nerves return.

Or rather, the thought of dancing with Tony, inhaling his scent, trying not to look like a fool, smiling and moving the two left feet she seemed to develop around him in these situations. Or something like that.

She stared at him blankfaced when he made the request after they'd had dessert. Such a simple question, or statement really – "Come on, Potts, let's take a turn around the floor" – had left her stumped. She hadn't factored in dancing, she thought in rising panic. Paparazzi, yes. They were a staple since the "I am Iron Man" press disaster and they were such a norm these days, she had even started to ignore them. And really it hadn't even fazed her when he'd reached into the Audi and assisted her out of the car and the flashbulbs went wild. It wasn't the first time she'd been out with Tony for a social occasion – albeit not just the two of them alone – and she was accustomed walking next to him in ridiculously high heels and designer duds (okay, maybe in more sedate clothing, but the point had to be made).

She didn't even blink when on walking through the restaurant there was a noticeable buzz on who had entered and whom he was with. She'd refused to give a second thought about the speculations they were no doubt having. He hadn't been out and about as he was accustomed to before Afghanistan and the fact that he'd voluntarily come out of seclusion with his personal assistant for dinner would definitely set tongues wagging.

The speculations she was resigned to, if not entirely comfortable with, and as of tonight they were true anyhow. Besides, dinner with Tony was not out of the ordinary, even though that meal tended to be a quick affair at the mansion. But dancing was out of her realm completely. They'd only shared two dances in public. The second time she was angry and so it just hadn't registered what she was doing. But that first time showed her that a dance with Tony Stark was not just an innocent dance. It involved touching, intimacy, not being able to keep track of her emotions and doing silly things like getting lost in his gaze and fantasising about…

"Pepper?"

Startled, she came out of her thoughts to focus on Tony, who was looking at her with undisguised amusement.

"Relax, it's just a dance. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage."

She smiled weakly and released the napkin she was nervously squeezing. "Could we maybe just skip the dancing for now?"

He grinned, fully enjoying her discomfort, and leaned back to take her in. "We've done it before. Dancing I mean, not the other thing. Although," he smirked wickedly, "we've done that too."

It was hard to keep a lid on the smile that comment evoked. All night long he'd been charming, ribald and touchingly attentive to her needs. It was addictive to be flattered by such an amazing man. She instinctively understood how the women he'd been with before had thought he was the sun that rose and set in the sky. Until he slept with them and refused to return their calls (or in some cases, remember them). She quickly turned her attention back to the conversation. Thinking about his past and her role in it would be an exercise in futility.

"It's more than a dance. In the old days, it was practically a statement of intent."

"A statement of intent," he repeated thoughtfully and at that moment she swore she saw the lightbulb that appeared over his head. She knew that face. That meant he had an idea. His next words confirmed it.

"Are you finished with dessert?" He signalled for a waiter to approach their table and told him to bring the bill.

"We're leaving already?" She couldn't hide the note of dismay from entering her voice. She could see the other patrons of the restaurant eyeing them surreptitiously as they stood. _Yup, there goes the gossip_, she thought a little sadly. He quickly bundled her out of the restaurant, not stopping to answer her question until the valet brought around the car. While handing her in, he said in a barely veiled tone of excitement, "The night is just beginning, Ms. Potts."

:

_A/N: I couldn't resist the Pepperony shout-out!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: 116__th__!! That's where this story was before I updated! My God, it's been a while, hasn't it? I haven't read any Iron-Man stories in over two months and just couldn't work up the energy to finish this off. But nonetheless, I made a promise and I'm sticking to it. I'm also finishing this story in the next chapter. The plans I had for the later chapters I'll turn into a sequel (if I find the energy) Now I remember why I like doing one-shots._

_On another note, thank you all so much for reviewing, remembering this story and sticking with it, despite my infrequent updates! I live for your reviews and enjoy the warm, fuzzy feelings they bring._

_Chapter 4_

On the ride from the restaurant, she questioned him persistently about where they were going. Suggestion after suggestion were met with outright snorts or teasing comments. "An art show?" she asked in slight desperation. The telling look he spared her from the road gave her the answer. "Okay, dumb question," she acknowledged.

When they turned onto the road to lead to the mansion, she looked at him carefully and said only one word. "Home?"

"Home," he repeated softly, with a small smile, and glanced at her for an instant. He had to look away almost immediately. A sudden vision of Pepper Potts and all the possible things she could be doing in his home had his hands tightening on the steering wheel. He dropped one of his hands to squeeze hers briefly and returned his attention to the road. A crash would definitely spoil the plans he had. He felt, rather than saw her smile, and could sense her contentment – and excitement. The confines of the car space was the closest they'd been all night and to say that he was near exploding wouldn't be an exaggeration. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Pepper was leading the proceedings tonight.

How a perfectly, innocuous four-letter word like "home" could have such sensuous undertones was completely beyond her. His home was a place she worked at almost every day. It was practically _her_ second home. The thought of being there with him shouldn't do things to her insides and it most certainly shouldn't invoke fantasies of the man in question, or the hands that had touched hers all too briefly or thoughts about where those hands had touched her before. Pepper exhaled slowly. The ride to the mansion had never seemed so long.

They reached the house without further conversation. The salty sea spray that hit her as she got out of the car was heady and overpowering. She was accustomed to the thick, salty blanket of mist that draped around the mansion occasionally, yet tonight the air felt like a seductive scent, one that clung to her face and skin, made her hands clammy and made her overwhelmingly aware of her femininity.

Or maybe that was Tony's influence.

Taking off his jacket and tossing it carelessly on the couch, he headed for the stairs, saying he had to go in the garage to get it, whatever "it" was, and he was leaving her to her own devices to "get comfortable" - his air quotes, not hers. She rolled her eyes as expected.

It was so rare to just be relaxing at the mansion that at first Pepper had no idea what to do. She felt tempted to fall back into acceptable patterns of behaviour and almost took a step towards her work area. She pulled herself away from those thoughts, chewing her lip in mild bemusement. _What does one do when in a date's home?_ she thought idly and instantly remembered the last woman she'd thrown out of the house and what she was doing at the time: exploring in detail. Definitely not. Which meant that by the time Tony returned from his quest, he was greeted to a sight he'd never seen but was very intrigued by, to say the least: a barefoot Pepper sitting at the new baby grand piano, playing Greensleeves as only she could do it – with furrowed brow, half-bitten lip and intense concentration.

He carefully and quietly put down his parcel and drank in the sight of her at the piano, carefully reproducing the simple melody he guessed she'd learned sometime during childhood, never again played since the day of piano recital. He didn't even realise he was smiling until some sixth sense alerted her to his presence. "We're on a date; you can't laugh at my playing," she said, getting up with a smile. Leaning over slightly to put back on her shoes, she added, "Besides, I haven't played since I was six."

He moved a couple of steps until he was next to her, stopping the hand that had started to slip on the heeled shoes. "We won't need those for what we're about to do." He laughed loudly at the expression on her face. "Potts, you've got to have the dirtiest mind out of all the people I know."

"It's your corrupting influence," she said mildly.

"Shows how much you know. I haven't even tried corrupting you – yet." He winked, then led her to the couch, gesturing to the bounty he'd brought from downstairs. "What do you think?"

"It" was actually a gramophone, accompanied by a dozen or so of what had to be very old records. The gramophone looked as if it had been carefully and lovingly restored and a glance at Tony's proud face left no doubt who was behind the restoration. She looked back at the gramophone. It definitely wasn't his usual choice of toy.

He was winding it up now and carefully loading the needle onto the record. The strains of an old jazz standard instantly filled the room. "It was broken apart when I found it a couple of years after my old man died. Had to rebuild some parts of it myself. Restoring the records was even harder." She'd already guessed as much. Tony Stark would swear before a court that he didn't have a nostalgic bone in his body, but mention his parents – and especially his father – and it was as if she could see a younger, geekier, infinitely nicer version of Tony Stark peeping out behind the lothario the world saw.

He held out his hand to her now, offering with a sweet, boyish smile: "Consider this my statement of intent."

Touched, to say the least, she slipped her hand in his and the instant thrill was felt by both of them. It was a wonder she hadn't melted in a puddle on the spot, but she was somehow strong enough to wrap her arms around him in embrace, and loosely sway to the music. The faux fireplace was on as usual, engulfing the room in warm firelight and golden ambiance. It was the only light in the room as Tony hadn't bothered Jarvis to turn on any others.

Somehow, everything felt in its right place. Being this close to Tony and his intoxicating blend of man and genius was incredibly sexy, but comforting at the same time. They had broken the dance once when Tony had to stop to wind the gramophone and change the record, and on his return, she found herself warmed, welcomed and content in his embrace. They fit perfectly together, and as she unconsciously snuggled closer to him resting her head on his shoulder as if it existed solely for that purpose, she had to reflect that Tony was right – once again. They did make a good fit, in every sense of the word.

"See?" His quiet observation pulled her out of her thoughts and had her leaning back slightly to see his face. "Dancing with me isn't so bad, is it?" Jarvis' words had stuck with him for the whole night and had nagged him – how could he treat her any differently than the others? How could he convince her that she was more special to him, more essential than any other woman he'd been with? The gramophone had been a long shot (and to his mind, incredibly cheesy) but Pepper was the one person he could think to share that with – along with the rest of his life.

She smiled. "I never said it was bad. In fact, it's the complete opposite of bad."

They had been swaying slowly for a little while, content for now to dance with each other. He raised his eyebrows at her. "So why didn't you want to dance at the restaurant? Still concerned about what everyone will think?"

"I wouldn't have gone out with you if that was the problem." It didn't answer his question directly and her averted eyes confirmed as much. "Besides, I like dancing with you."

"So you didn't dance with me because you like dancing with me." Tony's frown and confused tone suggested he wasn't following her line of reasoning. She flushed. She really didn't feel like telling him how idiotic she felt in front of others when she danced with him.

"I do like dancing with you," she insisted. "It's just…The night of the firefighters' benefit, I'd never worn a dress like that before and I felt…completely self-conscious and then you showed up and…" She moved one of the hands that had been resting lightly at the base of his neck and waved it about in the air to signify how flustered she'd been. "And you were flirting and looking at me…like...like…" He was staring at her now with such arrested, sexy expression, she could literally feel the heat from him. "…Like how you're looking at me now and I just wanted to…" She trailed off, mouth slightly open and flicked a glance at his lips, then back to his eyes. "I want to..."

On one level she was conscious of the silence indicating the music had stopped, but her immediate focus was on the man in front of her, his breathing, his eyes, his mouth – him, his essence; he was completely overloading her sensory faculties, and she should be doing something constructive about it, like kissing the hell out of him, instead of looking at him like a dazed fish.

She wanted him so badly.

She closed what little space there was between them, instinctively closing her eyes as her mouth met his, and immediately her senses went further into overdrive. Oh God, he smelled good, tasted better. Their mouths moved together, first gently, then more urgently, in a twisted tango of need and desire.

When he regained the ability to breathe, he said hoarsely, "I was being patient and giving you space." His hands cupped the back of her neck while he trailed the length of her neck, which caused her to arch her neck to allow him better access.

When he came back up, she whispered against his mouth in a way he found completely erotic, "You don't need to be patient anymore." And then she was kissing him along his jaw line and his neck, little fluttering pecks and nibbles that were sending electric impulses along his nerve endings. His hands ran the length of her body, and after a few caresses eventually found the zipper with little ease and in a move that bespoke his decades of experience, pulled it open smoothly and made to drag the straps over her shoulders.

"Wait." She caught his fingers before he could do anything, squeezing them reassuringly. "Let me," she whispered, before pulling back slightly to stand a few steps away from him.

With a confidence borne out of sheer sexiness and the electricity being generated between them, she slowly undressed, slipping the strap off one shoulder, then the other, before letting the whole garment slide agonisingly slow against her body to land down on the ground in a heap. His eyes followed the black dress briefly, before outright ogling the lingerie set she was wearing. It was a pale blue strapless, bustier set, with matching garter belts that clipped onto the sheer pantyhose she'd worn.

She slipped her fingers through the garters, toying with them teasingly as she unconsciously took deep breaths, pushing her swollen breasts forward. Tony felt his breath catch in his throat, and had to remind himself to swallow. He was…excited; heck, he was almost bursting out of his pants. "Oh, no fair Potts. That's just plain old cheating." His eyes flicked once again to the garters. There were easily half dozen ways he could think of removing them – including with his mouth – his goatee against the smoothness of her skin and pantyhose – toying, brushing and nibbling on the pale softness of the lingerie…God, if he kept up those thoughts, he wouldn't last two minutes inside of her.

"Next time, you set the pace." She licked her lips and walked back to him, kissing him hard and dragging his hands onto her body….


End file.
